


When The Truth Hunts You Down (Working title)

by bloodbetrothed (InfinitySoldier)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gellert being a manipulative punk, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Long ass story, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, You will hate me, bear with me, like actually burning, mostly no comfort actually, various episodes in Albus' life after the fightTM, written mostly at ungodly hours
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinitySoldier/pseuds/bloodbetrothed
Summary: A story consisting of sets of events that really led to their legendary duel. Starting about two years after the Dumbledore-Grindelwald fight in 1899 filling the canonical blank space up until the events of Fantastic Beasts: COG. (Adding episodes beyond that as the story continues.)Please bear with me, it will be a monster of a story.Rating can change throughout the story.





	When The Truth Hunts You Down (Working title)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody!  
> I'm back from the dead with, sadly, a new account and, not so sadly, a new story. Grindeldore really got me back after COG and my creative fluids are boiling again since I first saw it. So... here's my attempt on an as-canon-compliant-as-possible story circling around my personal interpretation on what must have happened between Albus and Gellert after 1899 to put them in exactly the situation they are in the movie. It should be canon compliant at least till the next movie comes out, haha!

Albus Dumbledore stands motionless and silent as he stares into the pair of heterochromatic eyes. They look the same as they have always looked, maybe with a stronger tint of fire, but still as mesmerising and captivating. Albus feels as if their leash is drawing him closer as his own instinct’s pulling him away.

‘Hello, Albus,’ says Gellert Grindelwald with a blank expression, maybe even a little tug on the corner of his mouth. Albus does not smile. He doesn’t even answer. He knows every word could be too much. He wishes he could turn away and just forget the coincidental meeting had ever happened. Gellert raises an eyebrow. He is calm and seems unaffected by the tension that Albus feels oh so presently.

‘Gellert,’ he says. It is merely a whisper. He has never found speaking a name so troubling. The other wizard shifts slightly. The evening sun glistens through his whitish blonde hair and he looks like he did on the day they had last seen each other. Albus bites his tongue. He does not want to acknowledge that Gellert is still the same young man that left on this momentous incident.

‘We have not seen each other in a while,’ Gellert says. Now he is definitely smirking. Albus remains silent. He cannot let himself into talking about that moment. He cannot risk the chance of making Gellert recall. ‘Is that stubble on your face?’

Gellert sounds genuinely amused as he asks. _You have changed_. Albus knows what the once-called friend is actually trying to say as he cocks his head slightly to the side and gives him a tickled smile. His smile is still persuasive and Albus has to force his gaze to drop as not to fall for it again.

‘So quiet, my brother,’ the younger wizard notes and to Albus it almost looks like he is about to take a step forward and advance him. He still fights the urge to bolt. It has not been longer than two years since the two parted ways on this maledict cause, Albus, now twenty years of age and possibly bearing less of a height difference as when they last spoke. It is only natural that Gellert immediately became aware of the physical change he went through, maybe even noting he finally looks his age, while he himself has not even in the slightest changed in appearance. As for mentality and mind-set Albus cannot tell about his former friend, but is unwaveringly positive about his own drastic development the trauma had caused. Gellert must see it, too, eventually, as his smiling face subsides into a more intent look and he says, lowered voice, now, ‘I am sorry about Ariana’.

Albus does not doubt the sincerity in the words, but his mind immediately adds a silent ‘too bad it was necessary’ to the other wizard’s expression of condolences and his mouth educes a bitter taste that makes him swallow hard. He realises Gellert has now, in fact, taken a step towards him, a little twitch in his hand as to indicate he thinks about reaching out. Albus rashly averts his eyes and tenses even more. Gellert stops in his barely there motion and presses his hand to his side. He sighs and lets his own body slacken. It does only release the tension in Albus’ muscles a tiny bit. He has never been so introvert. But he has never feared anything as much as the young man in front of him could give him. He refrains from looking back at the former friend.

‘Do you hate me that much?’ Gellert asks. Albus cannot distinguish if it is hurt or mockery in his voice.

‘I loved you,’ he exclaims and feels like screaming from the top of his lungs the thing he held back for such a long time. He looks back at the Grindelwald who put on another smile. A different one this time.

‘I was not the one who turned their back on you,’ he says calmly while Albus’ fingers are slightly shaking. Is it out of rage or exasperation, he does not know. But he steadies his gaze again and answers in a tone quite as calm as the other’s.

‘In fact, you did.’ Remembering how the younger of the two had fled the scene right before the fighting could pursue, he feels justified for the contestation. Gellert gives a short sneer. Then his face turns cold again, he is betrayed and robbed of control. Albus assumes he is bitter about having lost the person most dedicated to him. He knows, this of all, he most certainly has been.

‘Would it have changed anything, Albus, had I stayed?’ he asks. Rhetorically, it seems, as his face has a sinister gloom to it, as he knows, they cannot go back. He cannot have him back.

‘I would have killed you,’ Albus states soberly. He knows he would have, if he had been able to. He knows, also, that he did not want to, but in the heat and thrill of the moment, Aberforth boiling with rage but not able to let go of his sister, he would have pulled the unforgivable curse and end it there. He would have been devastated to know he was persuaded to do a thing like this, but his mind had been elsewhere, had not sought revenge on his friend and relief for his ire as Aberforth would have, but gave over to his temper which simply could not be controlled, even if he had wanted to.

‘Well, so much for love,’ says Gellert with an uncanny half-smile. His words oozing bitterness, his eyes glowing like bicoloured floating marble. It stings, but Albus knows he must be right. His love had not been deep enough to refrain from using the killing spell. He could try to convince himself he would not have dared to, but he knows, it is not true. Though he knows it was not out of hatred either and he is afraid he will never know for sure.

‘It did not change what I felt before… it happened,’ Albus says, more to himself than to Grindelwald.

‘But it did not stop you from fighting me,’ Gellert concludes. There is no trace of accusation in his voice, neither of scorn. It is simply a statement. Albus shakes his head. _No_. His fingers are shaking again. This whole situation is wrong. He would not have chosen to declare his feelings in such a manner. He had even deemed it best to not ever confess to Gellert at all. He always knew it would cause only trouble. More trouble than their connection could have borne. Perhaps, looking at it from the present’s perspective, it would have given Grindelwald even more power over him. It most certainly would. He does not know what had caused him to choose his brother’s side over Gellert’s that day, a brother he had never felt a special connection with, over a boy he thought he would have trusted with his life and soul, if worst came to worst. But suddenly he had found himself beside Aberforth, the boy who has not been more of a brother to him, than Gellert ever had, without thinking, without doubting, at least for a moment, as if he had known all along that his friend’s intentions had been wicked. In the corner of his eye he sees the wind playing with Gellert’s wavy hair. His heart aches.

‘I cannot talk to you,’ he then announces and looks straight into the other’s face, heavy with a shadow he cannot pin down. _I’m sorry_ , he urges to say, but he stops himself, not letting Gellert in again. Never.

‘It appears to me, we are already talking,’ the Grindelwald opposes. He has not lost his sarcasm, as it becomes clear, but Albus never doubted that anyway. As much as he wants to go back to past days, sitting there by the fire in that little cosy room no one ever knew about, talking with Gellert about everything, about the plans they had, the great things they wanted to achieve, he cannot bear his presence now, now that he holds in his possession the very thing that keeps him up at night. He had shut the person out of his life he was most comfortable with, the one who gave him a feeling of being worthy the way he was and felt and thought. And he knows that he had to, in order to stay sane.

‘What is it you are so afraid to hear?’ asks Gellert who sees his troubles, sees right through him like he always did, because in some traits they were so astonishingly alike. ‘That it was your curse that killed Ariana?’

Albus flinches. Gellert knows he hit the mark. Or probably grazed it at least.

‘What makes you even think, I could know this truth you fear of hearing?’ Gellert mocks. Albus’ hands tremble. He tries so hard not to burst out. ‘And even if I did. Why should I tell you? To ease your troubles? After you betrayed me? To break you?’ he pauses shortly to take a breath, ‘I think you are broken enough for knowing what is right and what is not.’ Albus looks him in the eyes, terrified. His belief is growing stronger, that Gellert who has just made clear what he thinks of him, in fact, does know what really happened and has full power over giving it to him here and now or just threatening his consciousness forever.

‘I never hated you,’ begins Albus again, hoping to calm things down again. He just says what comes right to his mind. He is truthful in his words, he never hated Gellert. He loved him, then, in fact, as he already declared, and he is not sure when he had stopped. If ever. ‘And I still don’t, now.’

‘How generous of you,’ the other wizard replies and Albus knows it has been too late for calming words. ‘See. I did not come here for exchanging vows of our unwavering love for each other or to press apologies.’

Albus’ heart aches again, he feels a sharp pain right where he used to feel a warm delight whenever the two pairs of eyes met. He always had feared that the younger one would make fun of him, if he learned about his feelings. That he does not even acknowledge them and does not in the slightest give value to them is worse. He bites back the stinging pain that arises behind his now narrowed eyes. He does not want to be here anymore. He had never wanted to see him again. He had been right about that. Then it dawned on him.

‘You came here on purpose?’ he asks, dumbfounded. Gellert smiles at him like a mother would smile down on her child. He belittles him for not noticing. Albus feels trapped and defeated.

‘What else should I be doing here,’ asks Grindelwald rhetorically. His smile is unchanging. ‘I wanted to see you.’

He should have known. He should have expected his former friend to not only appear in a place like this as a coincidence. He is not sure if Gellert frightens him like this. Only as the other takes another step forward tension rises in him again. He cannot be touched by him, he cannot give him the smallest chance of creating affection.

‘Well, you saw me,’ says Albus, snapping, because he is still captivated, unable to run. Unable to find himself here in this situation. ‘What now?’

Gellert chuckles. ‘Temper, Albus,’ he says, lecturing. ‘Is it still that bad?’ The Dumbledore falls silent again. He is not taking part in his games anymore. He will not let his guard down again, he swears to himself. That is when Gellert starts to fumble around in his jacket pocket. He draws out a little object which he hides in the palm of his hand before saying ‘I actually came here to ask you something’. He uncovers the thing in his hand. It is the blood vial they used for making their non-aggression pact. Albus’ heart sinks.

‘I believe you remember that piece of jewellery,’ Gellert says. A malicious smile splays on his lips. His eyes glitter in the same vile light and Albus feels something deep inside of him twist. The way the other wizard clutches to the fine thread the vial is attached to makes him question the whole of his intentions again.

‘What do you want with that?’ he asks through gritted teeth. It is difficult, almost impossible to not let his emotions shine through as he sees the object dangling before his eyes.

‘I was wondering if you would want it back,’ Gellert replies, his smile unchanging, the gleam in those familiar eyes so lively it almost feels like that time long ago. ‘Now that we are enemies.’

There is another twinge in Albus’ chest. He had never declared them enemies. He had not even thought it. He is not sure about what they are in general. But he had never named this state that of enemies.

‘I thought you could, as well, just destroy it,’ says Gellert. His smile is still there, but Albus thinks it may have faded a tiny bit. The older wizard swallows down the bitter taste that has again emitted in his mouth and gives his once-called friend a sceptical look.

‘Why should I want that?’ he asks. Gellert clutches tighter to the chain as if to show he would not even hand it over if Albus actually did want to have it back.

‘You sure must want revenge on me,’ he is answered, ‘after I murdered your sister.’

‘I cannot be sure about that,’ says Albus who must admit that he is not even sure what he fears most, to be told that he was the one whose curse killed his sister, or that it was actually Gellert where the killing curse had originated. He doubts that he could bring himself to hate the young man even if it had, even if it meant otherwise he would never be able to put her death behind himself.

‘What does it even matter anymore? You already broke it by fighting me back then,’ Gellert states, chain still in hand and he looks down on the vial with deep, clouded eyes.

‘It was Aberforth,’ objects Albus and feels like a child pushing away his responsibilities. ‘Aberforth started the fight.’

‘But you stood by his side. Against me.’ Gellert’s voice is sober and without judgement. Albus stands tense, his counterpart looks relaxed. ‘I guess I cannot even blame you, my friend,’ he says still looking intently on that small metal object, ‘after all, blood is thicker… oh, wait a minute!’ He looks Albus in the eyes again and swings the vial lightly. Albus keeps his jaw from dropping.

‘Stop that,’ he says and looks down uncomfortably. He knows he is to blame for not choosing his loyal friend over his younger brother, for not staying true to his words and actions. But he cannot bring himself to hate the one he had shared so much with, mind and heart, even if the other had never known of the latter. Had he? He did not seem surprised when he told him earlier. Maybe he knew all along.

‘I guess, it is only right to destroy it,’ Gellert continues. Albus thinks he is only trying to provoke him. He is not unsuccessful. ‘And you must be the one to do it.’ He would not. He would not back down now and give in to the temptation. He would stay true to his vows at least now, even if it was already too late.

‘I will not destroy it, Gellert,’ he says with a stern face. ‘I still mean what I said to you. I still do not feel differently about you. You must accept that truth.’ _Even if we will never see each other again_.

‘What do those feelings profit you?’ asks Gellert. His calmness slowly vanishes. ‘Destroy it already so you can at least be my enemy.’ _If I cannot have you as a partner_. Albus almost hears the words aloud as the other snaps at him. He feels pressure in his lungs. He does not want to be his enemy. He cannot be his friend or confederate. But he will not be his foe, will not oppose him in his plans, because secretly, truthfully, he still supports them. He still feels the same about Muggles as Gellert does, still hopes for his former companion to achieve his goals. He simply cannot bear seeing him anymore, knowing that he could know. Probably knows.

‘I will not fight you,’ he clarifies. He will never again, if he will not have to in order to save his own life. There is still sunlight framing the other young man’s flowing hair. Albus thinks he is beautiful.

‘But I you,’ hisses Grindelwald, his face now vicious, his eyes dark with wickedness. His whole body seems like trembling in wrath now. Albus thinks a _don’t_ , barely a whisper, his eyes stinging again and his insides feeling numb. Gellert swiftly puts the vial back in his pocket and Disapparates, leaving only an obscure sensation behind. Albus stands in shock, not knowing what to feel anymore.

‘So this really is the end,’ he murmurs to himself and feels the boiling in his blood, the pressure in his chest overwhelming him. There is a hot tear slipping down his cheek. He falls to his knees without realisation, supports his body weight with his hands on the ground and maybe there is even a sob escaping his constricted throat when he sits there in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats, you made it through the first tiny part. Be warned: it will, for sure, get worse!  
> Thank you for reading so far!
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I also already started to write something taking place after the movie up until their fight and then again after the fight, so let me know if you'd like me to incorporate it in this same story as it progresses or post another one.


End file.
